I Am James Sirius Potter
by stinkabhel
Summary: He had a gift, a gift of no ordinary pursuit. A gift he dare tell no one, especially his father.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

James swung from his broom with easy grace, and ruffled his black hair.

"James!" a familiar voice greeted his ear. In fact, he despised hearing it.

"What is it this time, Al?" he asked in exasperation.

"I- well, I was wondering if I could borrow your new broom…" Al stammered, hopeful that his big brother would let him.

James's first instinct was to scream no, and tell his brother to get lost and just to tell their Dad to buy him one. He wouldn't even have to ask twice whilst him, had to save for it. "You should learn to work for what you want blah blah…" He had to skip Hogsmeade trips, staying in the library forcing himself to read books about Goblin Revolutions. By that time, he was topping History of Magic. But that wasn't exactly bliss. Every single knut was kept in a box that transfigured to a skrewt if it was endangered or in case temptation gets the better of him. Well, Uncle George kind of tipped in some money...but that wasn't even half. But now here was his brother, the ultimate treasure of his father, asking him to ride his brand new broom.

"Can't you ride yours?" he sighed, grasping his broom tighter.

"Well…I really wanted to try it…" Al replied, his green eyes glinted with hope.

He found those eyes annoying. That's why his father loved Al so much. It was his eyes. Their Grandmum's eyes. He'd seen them, and they were indeed captivating.

"Alright…" he sighed again, defeated. "Make sure you return it, safe."

"Thanks a bunch, James!" his 16 year old brother chimed happily, grabbing his brother's broom.

James sighed in exasperation, and grumbled angrily to himself. Al was indeed Harry's favourite, there wasn't a single doubt about that but James Sirius Potter had a gift and no one knew about it. And no one ever will.

James Sirius Potter could- "Oi, James!" Scott Wood yelled to him, waving his arms wildly in mid-air. James laughed, as he trudged towards his best mate.

"I heard that you made quite a scene with Flynn during Arithmancy…" Scott greeted him with a hearty slap on the back.

"Well, she blew my head up…" said James grumpily.

"Ah, I get it- big-headed!"

"Oh sure, funny, really."

"Sorry. It's amusing to watch you get rejected again and again and again…"

"I wasn't rejected, I didn't even ask her out!" James replied.

"Oh sure. Oi Flynn, you really need to improve on your Transfiguration skills. Say I tutor you?" Scott imitated James in a slightly higher voice. "Women respond to flattery, not insults, mate.

"McGonagall did say I should help struggling stu-"

"Mr. Potter! You're 15 minutes late for detention! Professor Vector could not make it." Minerva McGonagall called his attention with an air of authority. "He's ill with an upset stomach…"

With that, McGonagall eyed James suspiciously.

"You may go Mr. Wood, if you have no intentions of joining Mr. Potter in detention."

"Right away, Professor…" Scott replied, leaving quickly without further ado.

"Sorry, 'bout that Professor…" James apologized, scratching his head.

"Detention is not to be taken lightly, Mr. Potter. You remind me so much of a young man I taught years ago, a charmer indeed, but an absolute trouble maker. You may have heard of him. "

James suppressed a grin since he knew who McGonagall was referring to since she said something about "reminding her". It was the very man whom he was named after.

"Especially, when Professor Vector told me about the turmoil you and redhair-ed Ms. Flynn caused earlier this morning…"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Professor…" he stammered, blushing.

But of course he knew. He was referring to his Grandmum and his Granddad's messy black hair-red hair combination. Lived for another generation, and even Uncle Ron said that Potter men fancied redheads. But he didn't really like Flynn…or did he? His grandparents were bound to pester him non-stop about this if they find out. Especially, James.

And that was James Sirius Potter's extremely rare gift. He could talk to his grandparents in his dreams. A gift that he dare tell no one, especially his father.

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So….yeah.. REVIEW!


	2. A gift

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

James sleepily changed into his night clothes, as fatigue gripped his body like a snake suffocating his prey. He groggily trudged towards his bed, collapsed on it, and as the moment his head touched the pillow, he was drifted far away into the land of dreams.

But his dreams weren't like anyone else's. He could dream things others would die for, dream things other sought but never found.

Every single night since he turned 8, a tall man with messy black hair and lopsided glasses along with a woman with dark red hair and startling green eyes greeted him with loving smiles.

It was indeed extraordinary how his father resembled his granddad so much. It gave him the expression that he was staring at his father, Al even, but it was the warm and understanding hazel eyes that made the difference.

His grandmum's red hair reminded him of his own mum, but this time the lovely emerald eyes gave the distinction. Talking to his grandparents in his dreams felt like talking to his real parents yet it was this own world where he seemed to grow up, instead of what's beyond his gift's boundaries.

It felt as if it was not his parents who raised him, physically, yes, but all the rest, it was his grandparents who built his inner core. They built his strengths, hone him and curb his life.

It was not Harry who inspired him to pursue Quidditch, it was James. Harry was too busy fawning over Al to even build his confidence.

It was not Ginny who helped him excel in other things and still pursue Quidditch, it was Lily. Ginny was too occupied with Lily (his sister) to even notice her eldest son.

He had long tried to vanquish those thoughts away, but it never goes, you just have to push it aside.

"Hello, son…" James greeted with a smile his arm draped around Lily's shoulders. He looked as young as ever, and so was Lily. It was kind of odd seeing your grandparents looking so youthful. He lived in a magical world, but that was just not normal.

_Son, son…_he repeated it again and again. It sounded like music to his eras. Sometimes he wondered how it felt like to be called by Harry like that. To Harry, he was just James. Al was the son. Maybe even Teddy was. Sometimes, he felt as if Harry would gladly exchange Teddy for a son, with that they could be a perfect family. He would just be James the Outsider, whilst in his dreams; it was as if he was the "son". He loved that feeling.

"Hello, James." Lily welcomed, embracing her grandson.

James loved her hugs. They were warm, full of love and care. He tried to push away the thought that he longed for his mother's too. Sure she did embrace him from time to time, but they were empty, like a forced action just for him not to get hurt. She need not pretend, he already was, he was used to it.

For him, his dreams were heaven. Sometimes he just wished he would just drop dead and join them. He remembered the first time he discovered such bliss, it was 8th birthday and it was the first time he visited his grandparents' graves.

_**FLASHBACK**_

_James Potter March 26, 1960 October 31, 1989_

_Lily Potte__r January 30, 1960 October 31, 1989_

_James traced the names on the cold white marble__, as h__e heard the playful screams of his siblings, waiting for his parents. __He felt a tingle on his flesh as the __icy stone touched his bare skin._

_"Hey Granddad, __Grandmum__…"__ he whispered __softly, wondering if his grandparents could hear him. In his young age, he was aware that what lay there __were bones or dust, yet Uncle George told him before that they could hear whatever you said to them, when he came with him to visit Uncle Fred's grave. _

_"Sorry about not getting you flowers, along with the last time I visited, although I can't remember that last time__. It's my birthday today too. Mum and Dad gave me a toy broom.__" he murmured. "__Oh, and w__e've got a new sister, her name's Lily too, __Grand__mum__, like my name's James too, Granddad. Al's pretty okay, although he keeps on breaking my toys."_

_"James! Time to go!" he heard Ginny call._

_"I need to go now, and sorry, this is all I have. They're my favorite __flavours__, hope you like them too!" he quickly said putting down three every flavor beans on the headstone._

_ "I hate you, Al! I hate you! I wish you were never born!" he screamed, hot tears streaming down his face. _

_"James Sirius Potter, you go up to your room!" Harry yelled as James clutched the remains of his toy broom._

_"I hate you! I hate you! I wish Granddad was my just my dad and not you! I hate you too!" he shouted at his father this time. His birthday was ruined._

_"James!" Ginny shrieked in anger and disbelief._

_"Go up to your room! __NOW!"__ Harry bellowed angrier than before._

_BANG!_

_James collapsed on his bed in tears, his birthday was such a disaster all because of Al. __His toy was now ruined and Dad screamed at him. He cried himself to sleep._

_Suddenly, he woke up to find himself in the arms of his father. But this man had hazel eyes, and a woman with red hair and his Dad's green eyes, held his hand._

_"Happy Birthday, James." The pretty woman said._

_"Are you an angel?" he asked innocently and the man and woman laughed._

_"Thank you for the beans, by the way. They're my personal __favorites__ too." said the man who looked like his father._

_Then he knew! Uncle George was right, they could hear!_

_**END OF FLASHBACK**_

"James? Are you all right?" James asked, noticing that his grandson was somewhere else.

"Oh, sorry, spaced out." He apologized, grinning.

"You are so like you're grandfather, his mind always somewhere else. Especially during classes, daydreaming, sleeping or horsing around with Sirius." Lily added.

He just laughed, but his happiness was too vast to be expressed in mere laughter. He was with those he loved most. He was his in dreams, in his own paradise.


	3. Personal Heaven

Disclamier: HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Previous Chapter:

_"You are so like you're grandfather, his mind always somewhere else. Especially during classes, daydreaming, sleeping or horsing around with Sirius." Lily added._

_He just laughed, but his happiness was too vast to be expressed in mere laughter. He was with those he loved most. He was his in dreams, in his own paradise._

"But I had 12 owls, and that's why I was made Head Boy, remember?" James reminded with a smirk.

"That's such a mystery, don't you think, James?" Lily turned to him, rolling her lovely green eyes, grinning at him. He grinned back. He loved her smile.

"No it's not, I was obviously brilliant." His grandfather retorted incredulously.

"I was talking to my grandson, you dog."

James laughed. Their bickering was amusing. No doubt about that. James and Lily could have a reality TV show with millions of satisfied viewers. The comical man and the all-business woman, nonetheless, the perfect couple. But to him, the perfect grandparents…or even the perfect parents.

"I know, Grandmum, isn't that mystifying? The ever abysmal James Potter actually earning 12 owls?" he replied, grinning at his grandfather, who faked a pout.

"Childish, really." Lily cut in.

"But extremely cute."

"You're still so naïve, hence your appearance, you're supposed to be 69, Potter."

"Really? Time flies so fast, doesn't it? Look at the bright side of dying, you don't need to see yourself as an old bat!"

"Potter!"

"Evans-Potter!" James replied with a sheepish smile. Lily closed her eyes in half amusement and half-exasperation.

"Never mind. See what I have to deal with, James? Even death couldn't fix him, still loopy as ever."

"An oversized baby."

"Hey…"

He chuckled again.

"I know, I married a child."

"A very charming and intelligent child that is."

Lily ignored James and stared at her grandson "So tell me, James, how's school?"

"I got detention tonight…" he started, avoiding Lily's stare.

"Really? That's grea-" James stopped considering Lily was glaring knives at him. "I mean, James Sirius Potter, that was very wrong of you."

"What crime have you grievously committed this time?" Lily sighed, beseeching his grandfather more than him.

"Well, there's this girl and-"

"Aha! Remember the trouble we used to put ourselves into?" James interrupted with a silly smile.

"You mean the troubles you put us into…" Lily corrected. "Don't mind you grandfather…"

"I sort of told her that she needs tutoring in Transfiguration…"

"Alas, you have become your grandfather…"

"Women respond to flattery, son, not insults. You have to woo them not bash their very delicate egos. Defy the rule and die a painful death." said James, ignoring Lily's remark.

"That's rich coming from you. Remember the first time you asked me? 'Oi, Evans! You really need help with your abysmal performance in Transfiguration, say I tutor you?'." Lily imitated lowering her voice, along with imitating James' swagger.

"By which you replied with a slap and you had to escort me to the Hospital Wing. It was a pretty effective tactic…" reminded James. Lily snorted.

"But I wasn't asking her out! I was just simply being a gentleman and offering Flynn help! By which she replied with blowing my head up."

"I should've done that instead!"

"But you've got to admit, that was pretty funny…"

"Oh sure…"

"So, how's your relationship with your father?" Lily asked, staring at James intently and he noticed James (old) look at him with interest too. They always had a special interest for Harry. It's a pity he hasn't much to tell them concerning his father. He barely spoke to him. Not to mention the cold distance which existed between them.

"Fine, I guess…" he replied gloomily, avoiding their gaze.

Both sighed.

"What about your mother, and Al and Lily?" James added, his voice struggling to be unconcerned about his distance with his family.

"Pretty much fine…" he croaked. He knew the questions would come anyway, so why bother?

There was an awkward silence, the discomfort present was crushing him until Lily finally decided to break the silence.

"It's time now, James, the sun's rising. See you again tomorrow night and always remember to study hard and do well. We love you." said Lily hugging him again.

It was a pity at had to end at such a bad note.

"Goodbye, son. Try not to get into trouble with Ms. Flynn or get in trouble at all." added James, with a wink.

He laughed and winked back while Lily eyed them suspiciously.

"Just say sorry…courting or not…alright?" James whispered to his ear and he hesitantly agreed.

He didn't want to, at all. But he HAD to. Why should girls be such sensitive creatures?

His surroundings dissolved, along with the smiling faces of Lily and James, as his face was hit by the first rays of the morning sun.

He struggled to open his eyes in the sunlight yet his mind was clear and alert. Here he was awake again, in the land of the living, a life of longing for the notice of his father. He clenched his fists, looked away, as he was close to wishing that James was his father instead.

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A/N: Sorry, this chapter was really disappointing but thanks a lot to those who reviewed. I appreciated them. I was thinking of putting an "Al Moment" to explore Al's point of view. Oh and btw, James is 17.

Please review. I know this chapter wasn't very good but please review. :))


	4. A Harry Moment: Susceptible

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**ASDFGHJKL**

_Red hair…Messy black hair…__More messy black hair __…__Laughter_

_Ginny screaming for him to wake up…_

"Harry…wake up, it's nearly 7..." Harry felt Ginny's hand seize his arm, shaking it violently. He jerked up at once, his stomach feeling queasy, for some reason he knew those features in his dream. Yet it was all vague, like a thick, dense fog covering the three people he was watching. The voices were muffled, yet they sounded extremely familiar, especially the boy not facing him.

"Harry, are you aware that sometimes you go into trances like Trelawney?" said Ginny skeptically.

"Oh, right…sorry…" he replied, snapping out of his reverie, swallowing the deep sense of dread building up in his throat.

"Now get up, and get ready. Ron's waiting down stairs…" added Ginny, waving her wand to put the things in place.

"Already? I was supposed to meet him at six…" he grumbled sleepily, scratching his head.

"It's 6: 45, Harry…" Ginny answered rolling her eyes.

"Oh ---t!"

"Harry! No profanity in this house, remember?"

"That rule wore off after Lily left for Hogwarts four years ago…"

"Harry!"

"Alright, alright…"

**DOWNSTAIRS…**

"What have you done to him, Ginny? He's lost his mind…" Ron whispered to Ginny as they watched Harry absent-mindedly raised his mug to his lips to drink his coffee.

"I was thinking more of work, are you guys having a difficult time?" Ginny whispered back, ignoring Ron's remark.

While Ron and Ginny were having a curious conversation, which he was unaware of, Harry was struggling to piece the mystery in his dream.

_Red hair…Messy black hair…__More messy black hair_

_Red hair…Messy black hair…__More messy black hair_

_Red hair…Messy black hair…__More messy black hair_

_Red __hair…Ginny…wait…__her voice didn't sound like that…Mum?!_

_Messy black hair…__me…__wait, I wasn't talking to them, I was merely watching…Dad?!_

_Black hair…__Al?__ But he doesn't sound like that__...Messy black hair __…__casual and cocky tone__…_

_JAMES!! _

_Talking to his parents who were dead! __Dead! _

_James Sirius __Weasley__ Potter! _

Harry let out a shower of coffee with a mixture of saliva, raining on a tall redhead.

"Thanks, mate." said a wet and obviously not amused Ron, the wet lather from Harry's mouth, dripping from his hooked nose.

"James is practicing necromancy!" Harry bellowed, standing up, obviously unaware with his…rather…wet and gusty outburst.

He knew that James would always do something mad. He knew it in his guts. Necromancy? The boy had skill, but necromancy? Wasn't that evil? EVIL! Dark arts! Dark arts! The very thing Harry has devoted his life fighting!

"Necromancy?" Ginny asked incredulously, handing Ron some tissue, who showered some coffee out of his mouth as well.

"You guys stop sprayong fountains of coffee or I'll kick you out of my kitchen..."

"Oh come on, Harry. You're overacting…" said Ron, wiping the coffee from his mouth.

"It's pretty unfair to suspect him of necromancy, Harry." Ginny added, crossing her arms, looking at Harry.

"But-" Harry retorted but stopped knowing that Ginny wouldn't believe him anyway. "We'll be going, come on, Ron. Bye hun…" Harry quickly kissed Ginny, grabbing Ron's arm, who struggled to reach for a bagel before speedily whispering "Accio."

**ASDFGHJKL**

"I swear Ron! I saw him, talking to my Mum and my Dad! Who are obviously both dead! Summoning souls, Ron! Necromancy!" reasoned as they walked the paths of the Ministry, waving to people as well as continuing their conversation.

"Harry, you said "James" (complete with Ron doing quotation fingers…) wasn't facing you, how can you be so sure it's James?" Ron challenged, smiling to Richard Galbraith, a stout young man who was overly-enthusiastic with his work.

"I know it's him! Why do you think would a stranger talk to my parents? It just has to be him." replied Harry.

Ron sighed.

"I know this may seem impossible, but did ever cross your mind that…well…it was Al and...not James?" Ron quietly dispensed.

Harry choked on his candy.

Al? Al? It can't be…no…it wasn't Al! The boy was too innocent to do it! It simply cannot be Al! It was NOT Al! Al?! For merlin's sake!

"Al?!" Harry yelled and people turned their heads to him for a second.

"Shhh!"

"Sorry, but Al? He wouldn't do such a thing! He's a prefect! He wouldn't even hurt a mouse! He's…he's…too good for that…" Harry finally reasoned, looking away, denying that his boy would do it.

Ron sighed again.

"Harry, maybe if it was James, why do you think he would do it? Not to imply anything but..don't..you think…because well…he feels a bit alone and... left out?" Ron whispered.

Alone? That never crossed Harry's mind…Alone? Why would James feel alone?

"Alone? Why would he feel alone?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, he's not my kid, Harry… I don't know. Why not try talking to him?" suggested Ron, pretending to look at some rolls of parchment.

"Right…" Harry muttered, disappointed even angry.

He would talk to James all right, about this "necromancy" issue. Why would he do such a thing, anyway? Dark Arts! Necromancy for Merlin's sake! The boy was trouble.

_**Thanks for those who reviewed and those who were patient with the past horrible chapters! I'm not very sure about this one…but please, please, please review!**_

___**Next Chapter**_

___**"James, do...have you been doing anything wrong? Dark arts or something?" Harry looked at his son's eyes, anger reflected on his features.**_

___**"Why would you suspect me of...Dark Arts... let alone, why would I do anything like that?" James replied, confused, and angry but most of all, hurt. Dark Arts?**_

**_He knew it. It wasn't because his father wanted to see him but to assume that he was doing something illegal. He wouldn't do anything with the Dark Arts yet here was his own father, suspecting him of it. Harry didn't trust him. That was all there is to it._**

___**"James, look at me..." Harry raised his voice, anger more evident this time. "Have you been doing anything concerned...with the Dark Arts?"**_

___**James laughed but there was no mirth in it. Harry didn't trust him. It was obvious. Why would he suspect him of Dark Arts in the first place?**_

___**"So what if I have, Dad?" he replied, a sardonic expression on his face. "Would you care anyway?" **_

___**"James Sirius Potter, you listen to me!" Harry bellowed, getting his wand out of his pocket.**_

___**"What are you going to do? Curse me?" James answered. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm used to all the pain. Go on...do it.. get rid of your good for nothing son..." **_


	5. Chapter 5

James just stayed stationary there on his bed; its warm covers were comfort to his body as the first rays of sun on a chilly morning streamed through the windows, illuminating the room with its radiance. Yet what he felt was different.

His soft pillow was bliss, perfect for contemplating on his thoughts, swimming in the deepest areas of his mind, beseeching sweet memories until something hard hit his face. It was bliss no longer.

"Oh dear, Jamesie here is having a trance…" he heard a familiar voice say.

"Fred, stop it, he clearly wants privacy.." replied another familiar voice.

"Scottie, do you always have to suck the fun out of everything?" sighed the other one.

Morning bickers and flying pillows. Scott and Fred…or Fred and Scott…whichever way…

"Well, Fred, as Head Boy, I have the responsibility to actually interfere in such matters when inconsiderate hooligans like you violate the space of others." retorted Scott, pompously tapping his badge, jokingly.

"English please?" replied Fred, rolling his eyes.

Scott loved doing that. He always took absolute delight in vexing Fred through conversing in severely ceremonial language, James thought. Oops, he might've been hanging out with him a tad bit too much.

"Oi, Potter, get up or 20 points from Gryffindor!" Scott commanded, his voice booming on the walls.

Erlack. Ow.

James grumbled.

"Scottie, you've learned well! I am so very proud of you!" said Fred, dramatically changing his voice, and wiping a tear from his face, animatedly hugging a helpless Scott.

"Uh, get a room…" James groggily joked, throwing a pillow at the "couple".

"Potter, 5 points from Gryffindor for lack of decorum…" hissed Scott, smoothening his robes.

"Oi!"

"But Jamesie, I want you to too. You've got so much manly beauty to be even wasted…" seduced Fred, jokingly, spinning on the bedpost, batting his eyelashes at James, dancing like a showgirl. (Lovely dears, I'm keeping it PG!)

James roared in laughter, while Scott looked at them with disgust.

"Real sexy, mate." chuckled James, winking at Fred

"Fred…" reprimanded Scott, slapping his head in exasperation.

"I was kidding, Wood."

"But that was an extremely sick joke." complained Scott, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Remind me again why we're hanging around with a prune, fuzzy cuzzy?" Fred asked putting an arm around Scott. "The man doesn't have a life…

"That's probably because he scared all his friends away, who just got acquainted with him because his dad was famous in the first place…" grinned James, going inside the bathroom.

Scott rolled his eyes before whispering "gits".

"I think that's why we befriended him in the first place too, you know?" Fred joked, tightening his grip on Scott, who was obviously not amused.

"Oh just shut up and get ready. I'm starving! I've got news for you guys." reprimanded Scott, who surprisingly ruffled his hair to the amusement of Fred.

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"So…Scottie, you wanted to inform us something?..." James yawned, his robes all askew, his hair extremely messy.

"Don't you comb your hair, James?" asked Fred, who sleepily trudged the stairs.

"What?" hissed James, scratching his head, his mind still spirited away in his grandparents.

"Dad couldn't attend the Puddlemere dinner, and so I'll be going for him…" Scott began nonchalantly, flipping through a Transfiguration book whilst James and Fred looked at him in great excitement and interest.

"…and he allowed me to be accompanied by two friends…" he finished, shutting the book and smiling at James Fred who were beginning to have seizures in pure utter joy and euphoria.

"But I didn't really say if I was going to bring you blokes." added Scott, laughing in amusement as his words stopped James and Fred's moment of sheer bliss and excitement abruptly.

They both looked as if they've seen a man skinned alive and tossed in a room with a transvestite who loves teenage boys. Not to mention, Fred conjuring a crowbar half swung in midair.

Egad.

Scott chuckled in enjoyment at their expressions. He always, ALWAYS took delight in vexing them.

"Being the absolute kind-hearted person that I am, of course I'm bringing you two."

With that the two started dancing like complete and utter lunatics with Fred swinging the crowbar wildly in the air, knocking out things in the process, and eventually, as James and Scott predicted someone.

"Oi, Finnegan, watch out for that-…" but James's warning came a tad bit too late, with Samuel Finnegan lying on the floor, hopefully still alive, with a bloody nose.

"S---." was the only word that lolled out from Fred's mouth with the sheer possibility that he would end up in jail if Samuel Finnegan was no longer breathing.

"That'd be 10,000 points from Gryffindor." Scott nervously gulped, in a dazed and obviously, frightened state as he heard whispers around them.

"What's with the commotion? What is going- oh my Merlin." interrupted Mallory Flynn, who quickly threw a glare at the three of them. "Wood, kindly explain what happened? Why there's a corpse on the Common room floor?"

"He's not dead!" cried a desperate Fred, looking extremely pale.

James, being the reckless fool that he can be conjured a pail of ice cold water and despite Scott's protests …or pleas and Mallory's angry screeches, poured it on Samuel Finnegan's body who quickly awoke, blood streaming from his nose much to everyone's, especially Fred's relief.

"My nose hurt." blurted out a finally conscious Samuel in his Irish accent.

"He's alive!" bellowed an ecstatic Fred whose face was beginning to regain its color, took an apparently dazed and confused Samuel Finnegan by his shoulders and attempted to carry him.

Scott nearly fainted in relief while Mallory's face twitched, before walking away.

James decided to seize the opportunity to apologize.

00000

"Oi, Flynn!" he called, his heart thumping wildly, thinking of something to say.

"What do you want, Potter?" she answered coldly, not even turning to look at him.

He needed to think of some smart retort, quick. Then, bingo. He had one. A really good one. Or so he thinks.

"I- just answer my question. Would you comb if you didn't have hair?"

"What incompetence is this?"

"Just answer my question."

"Logically, no."

"If you didn't have ears would you wear earrings?"

"Apparently, no."

"If you didn't have feet would you wear shoes?"

"Obviously, no."

"If that's so, why are you wearing bras?" chuckled James, getting a bit carried away with his "decent apology" which obviously wasn't even close to admission guilt.

Mallory's icy grey eyes grew wide, and her freckled face crumpled in indignation before giving James a hefty slap. Then walked away, leaving James dumbfounded.

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"What an apology, Jamesie! Insulting a woman's chest!" exclaimed Fred. "Suicide, as you know it!"

"I don't get it, it wasn't even offensive!" he defended, exclaiming his hands in the air in exasperation as Fred snorted.

"Really, James, it wasn't." Fred reassured sarcastically, casually plopping himself beside the two others.

"Well you see, James, a woman's chest is one of her sensitive parts." Scott explained, resulting to Fred looking at him sheepishly.

"Perv…" hissed Fred evilly while James smirked.

"Looking at the general details." added Scott, who swatted Fred in the back of the head with his book. "Meaning, it isn't exactly the best part of a woman's anatomy to ridicule."

"Wow, you know lots of stuff, Scottie." Fred said sarcastically. "Your dad must be real proud of you."

"Which he actually is."

"But not as proud as Uncle George of Fred, he cried on his shoulder unrestrainedly during his 17th birthday."

"That was pretty awkward."

"Yeah, he just cupped your face into his hands and examined you for like 30 whole minutes, sobbing, all dignity forgotten."

Scott chuckled, but wasn't a sign of pathetic ridicule.

"Mum said that's because I remind him of Uncle Fred a lot, which is why I was named Fred in the first place." justified Fred with a small, innocent smile.

James felt a bit uncomfortable talking about father figures, as a feeling of jealousy came back to tug back on his insides, gnawing them bit by bit. Again, he began to wonder if ever there was, even just for the shortest moment, a time when Harry felt immensely proud for having him. Not just James, but a son. He pondered if there were times when Harry couldn't sleep in euphoria for having a son become Quidditch Captain or if there were times when Harry told other people that James had his amazing genes.

He smiled at the thought. They were his secret fantasies, and forever they shall remain locked in the deepest waters of his mind, submerged by his other thoughts into the cold nothingness of mere dreams. There wasn't a place for that, even in a place for magic.

Fantasies do not necessarily mean magic, but the magic that is seen by the beholder in his hopes and dreams and for him, that was real magic.

"Remember, Fred. They could hear." James whispered and winked at Fred, whose face lift up with a smile. And that, definitely, was not necromancy.

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"Mr. Potter!"

James heard a familiar voice as he walked out of the Great Hall with Fred and Scott, his belly full of the wonderful house elf specialties. He turned around to meet Professor McGonagall. He didn't have detention tonight, did he? He was pretty sure he didn't have any…

"Yes, Professor?" he acknowledged as Fred and Scott advanced without him. "What can I do for you?"

McGonagall's eyes seemed to have an odd glint, as if a surprise was waiting for him, eager to meet his presence.

"Your father is here…" the headmistress started leaving James to comprehend what the woman was actually saying. If his brain wasn't going mentally unstable, Minerva McGonagall said his father was there. IN HOGWARTS!

"You mean the man who helped make me…?" he croaked unsurely, giving a small smile to McGonagall's face.

"Why…yes…Mr. Potter, the man…who…yes…" she answered awkwardly but quickly regaining her composure. "He wants to talk you."

If he wasn't going insane, McGonagall just said that his father, the ever famous Harry Potter, WANTED to actually talk to him.

James's mind was bursting forth with joy and disbelief. What if his fantasies weren't just fantasies but realities?

"Are you sure he wants to talk to me and not Al? You know the prefect who looks exactly just like him?" he made sure, checking if the headmistress was not mistaken. "Or Lily, the g-"

"Yes, James. Your father wants to talk to you." McGonagall interrupted with utter finality, a smile etched on her face, as if she knew all along about his desires.

"Thank you…Professor."

McGonagall nodded, as she led James towards the room where his father was waiting.

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Finally, the door swung open and for the first time in years, James was extremely excited to see his father. Yet when the door shut close, the air was different.

It wasn't at all comforting, nor was it exciting, but awkward and unwelcoming. Harry's face did not show signs of amusement of seeing him, but a grave expression was on it, like he has done something terribly wrong.

Suddenly, James's world fell, like a newly built tower, collapsing to the ground in ruins. Once again, they were fantasies.

"James, do...have you been doing anything wrong? Dark arts or something?" Harry looked at his son's eyes, anger reflected on his features.

"I-I…Why would you suspect me of...Dark Arts... let alone, why would I do anything like that?" James replied, confused, and angry but most of all, hurt. His father's words stung like knives cutting through his flesh, while salt was briskly rubbed on to them, making them bleed and sting even harder.

He knew it. It wasn't because his father wanted to see him but to assume that he was doing something illegal. He wouldn't do anything with the Dark Arts yet here was his own father, suspecting him of it. Harry didn't trust him. That was all there is to it.

Suddenly the hurt turned to anger. He was angry. Angry that here was his father suspecting him of crime when he didn't know him one tad bloody bit! His father was here, accusing him, when he knew nothing about his life! About his very being! About how his son even came to be!

How could he even dare to say things about him when he didn't even attempt to get to know his own son!

"James, look at me..." Harry raised his voice, anger more evident this time. "Have you been doing anything concerned...with the Dark Arts?"

James laughed but there was no mirth in it. Harry didn't trust him. It was obvious. Why would he suspect him of Dark Arts in the first place? Fury and pain throbbed in his veins like a strong river, casting away all the sense and reason within him. That's what anger did and that's why it's a sin.

"So what if I have, Dad?" he replied, a sardonic expression on his face. "Would you care anyway?"

"James Sirius Potter, you listen to me!" Harry bellowed, getting his wand out of his pocket.

"What are you going to do? Curse me?" James answered. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm used to all the pain. Go on...do it… get rid of your good for nothing son..."

James dropped to the floor, facing his father; hatred ran wild in the room, tension was heavy.

Harry slowly raised his wand, gulping angrily, as James stared at the tip of it, unsure of what fury would it unleash. Would it be death?

To both of there surprise, Harry's wand started to emit angry green sparks from its very tip, waiting to pounce on its next victim. The green light temporarily filled the room, feeding on the anger and hatred present in the atmosphere, poisoning the goodness within.

That light meant one thing and it wasn't something that James expected. They said that the best of things come unexpected... but so do the worst.

James felt hot tears at the back of his eyes, as he stared at the unfathomable scene that unfolded before him. It never crossed his mind that he would stare at a tip of a wand like the way he was doing now, staring at Death, especially that the wand would be his father's.

"Expelliarmus!" screamed a woman's voice, as Minerva McGonagall rushed to his side, throwing Harry a look of utmost disbelief and incredulity. "Harry, how…how… could…what would…Albus…"

Harry himself looked stunned, dazed and frightened, as he stepped backwards in astonished silence. He was breathing heavily and the rain started to pour and thunder shook the room with its deathly roar.

Harry threw James a confused, frightened or even an apologetic gaze with his emerald eyes that carried so much emotion it was hard to decipher. But James was too hurt, too shocked to even notice it. And then Harry vanished, leaving James and Professor McGonagall in the room, poison still in the air.

James shakily stood and ran off quickly, not caring about anything in the world. What he say back there was enough proof, evident enough of what he so long longed to be answered. He need not words. He was leaving, and that was the only cure to the wound that had been deeply inflicted. Damage had been done.

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_**At last, finished. Horrible, yes, I know. It was sort of rushed…sorry about that! But thank you so much for the lovely reviews, they're a joy. But please, please, please for my sake, REVIEW!!! It means so much to me. Okay...so i was making harry a bit evil BUT ALL SHALL HAVE EXPLANATIONS! Harry's a nice boy! he wouldn't! or would he?**_

_**NEXT CHAPTER**_

"_**James, mate?" Fred sleepily called, as he heard a soft rhythm of footsteps in the room from James's side. It was an extremely chilly evening, with the strong rain thumping down the windows. Thunder roared like a mighty lion's bellow, and lightning streaked the dark night sky.**_

"_**Mate?" Fred worriedly called again. No answer. Silence. Only the roar of lightning was heard.**_

"_**James!" **_

_**Fred, now his mind thinking clearly in worry, grabbed the sheets on James's bed to find them empty. **_

_**He quickly checked James's trunk to see if his things were still there, and they were still quite intact except for two things that Fred was exactly looking for. A photograph and a broomstick. James was gone.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Dislcaimer: Knowing that we have to do this all over again, I would like to inform all of you that I do not own Harry Potter. **

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A heavy cloud of tension hung in the air, filling the atmosphere with its ghostly silence. The endless agony of uncertainty was weighing down on the once careless place, the feeling of jolly tinkling laughter gone. But soon, a faltering voice broke the crushing silence.

"I...I…I'm worried, James. Something is wrong I can feel it stronger now…" cried the woman with red hair, her starling emerald eyes filled with worry.

The bespectacled man nodded sullenly as he nervously swallowed, his features etching signs of fear as well. The man was trying to hide any signs of terror, as he was probably trying to be strong for the woman. He reached out for her hand and squeezed it lovingly, searching the woman's green eyes with the lovely hazel orbs that used to light up his face, but not now. The woman noticed, and painfully looked away. The man's shoulders drooped a little in dismay, as he struggled to gain composure once more. He had to be strong.

"I…I don't know what to do, it's…it's just like Harry with Vol- oh James!" lamented the woman, as he through her arms onto his neck, as he clasped her in a gentle embrace, giving her comfort even though he struggled to find some as well. He stroked her cheek lovingly, gazing into her eyes once more. He forced a smile.

"I'm scared, James." The woman croaked, as she struggled to let the words out, restraining the tears threatened to quickly fall. "I'm scared for him."

"I am too, Lily." whispered the man uncomfortably. "But all shall be well." He reassured her, hugging her tighter, as if trying to find solace in the loving warm embrace, as they were once again thrown into an endless abyss of uncertainty and doubt.

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"James, mate?" Fred sleepily called, as he heard a soft rhythm of footsteps in the room from James's side a few mins. ago. It was an extremely chilly evening, with the strong rain thumping down the windows.

Thunder roared like a mighty lion's bellow, and lightning streaked the dark night sky.

"Mate?" Fred worriedly called again. No answer. Silence. Only the roar of lightning was heard.

"James!"

Fred, now his mind thinking clearly in worry, grabbed the sheets on James's bed to find them empty.

He quickly checked James's trunk to see if his things were still there, and they were still quite intact except for two things that Fred was exactly looking for. A photograph and a broomstick. James was gone.

He quickly sprinted to the Heads' Dorm, quickly entering through the passage way James and himself found. There was no time for rules, he was eager to wake Scott up. Knowing the impulsivity James had, he might as well be dead by now.

"Scott! Wake up! James!" he frantically yelled, shaking the sleepy lad wildly.

"What's going on, Fred? What are you doing here?!" Scott groggily asked, as he struggled to sit up.

Fred panted, heaving heavily. "James…he's…" Fred panted again, catching his breath. Scott's heart beat suddenly ran wild.

"…he's gone…he's not here." Fred finally finished, as Scott dazedly swallowed.

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_Thunder bellowed mightily in utmost power, as lightning struck the frantic night sky dangerously, holding its mighty splendour against the powerless earth. _

_Rain dangerously drummed on his skin, stinging his eyes as he struggled to keep his footing. It was no condition to fly on a night like this, with lightning prancing in its deadly playground._

_The bauble head charm had long worn off as he struggled to keep the photograph from getting damaged. His eyes were threatening to close as fatigue gripped his body in a deadly embrace._

_Yet the pain he felt now was no worse than the emotional anguish he felt, as he was thankful that it was raining for it was easier to fool himself that he was not crying._

_He refused to succumb to the numbing pain that filled him. Anger was still burning like a raging fire, devouring everything in its path, yet the icy coldness of pain was growing colder still. He refused to let the tears fall, as he knew men never, if not, rarely, weep in emotion._

_The women did…, the men were just there to keep them strong, but now he wondered, who were there to catch the men when they fall? And so…fall they should not._

_The whirring whip of the wind hit him, forcing him to lose his footing, he suddenly let go of his wand, losing it in the pools of muck. He cursed loudly as he dug the mulch in search for his beloved weapon. It felt as if it was like his 8th birthday all over again._

Al woke up in cold sweat, as he recalled the events in his awful dream, with a boy trudging the night, falling into pitch black into its unknown depths.

He looked around his surroundings as he realized that he had fallen asleep in the library. The boy in his dream looked oddly like James from the back, with the boy's broom the same model as his brother's. But that didn't necessarily mean that it was James…not everyone had that certain expensive model but his brother was not the only one who possessed one.

He tried to shoo the thoughts away yet his heart was drumming wildly, as he fixed his glasses that was hanging askew his nose. His guts were squirming wildly as if telling him something: Something was wrong.

He quickly got up from his uncomfortable position as thunder bellowed, and judging by the night sky, it was just past midnight. A small orangey light illuminated the dark end of the corridor. The Headmistress's office. He wondered why McGonagall was till up during the hour.

He quietly walked the hallways hoping not to get caught, if he was, he was in deep water. He then heard shuffling voices near the Headmistress's office.

He paused behind a wall, hoping that McGonagall's cat senses couldn't feel his presence. Then he heard a familiar voice, wondering if it was sleep deprivation that was causing it. If not, why was someone unlikely to be at Hogwarts visiting them? And why in such an early hour?

"Where's…Harry?" asked McGonagall, a bit of guilt and anger was in her voice.

So it was his mother indeed. What was going on? Why was Ginny suddenly showing up at Hogwarts?

What about Harry? Has anything happened to their Dad?

"He... wanted to stroll the grounds for a while, I- …he's confused, Professor…" Ginny murmured sadly, looking away in the distance. "I- I don't know what will happen if James…"

Ginny was soon reduced to sobs as she could no longer continue. Ginny rarely cried at all, and if she did, something was really horribly wrong.

A deep feeling of dread was forming a pit inside his stomach, as a deep sense of foreboding fell on him like heavy bricks.

James?

He was soon in a daze.

What if…the boy in his dreams was his brother?

"Now, now, Ginevra, we will find him…" McGonagall consoled stroking Ginny's back as she sobbed on her shoulders.

He suddenly felt the urge to speak up, and have his questions answered.

For now, he was confused, and he hated it.

Confusion was the devil.

"Mum? What are you doing here?" he whispered worriedly, as Ginny and McGonagall stared at him in shock.

"Al! I-I…"

"Mr. Potter What- what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Why? Is anything wrong? Where's James?" Al demanded, as his heart beat faster and faster in his chest. It felt as if it wanted to burst out of his ribs.

"I-I…Mr. Potter have some sleep, it's none of you cares for now…I-"

"How can I not care at all?! James is my brother for Merlin's sake!" he yelled frantically.

He didn't know what pushed him to do such an unfathomable thing, yet he still did.

How can they tell him to not care? Did they think that he didn't care for James at all?

He felt that the way they were acting was as if saying that he need not care now since he never did care at all. He didn't show much affection for his brother that much and James did pretty much push away from him. A cold distance had always existed between them, barely speaking to each other, and if people thought he didn't care, they were wrong.

He did.

McGonagall sighed as Ginny wept silently and an awkward silence existed between the three of them. The cackle of thunder was heard throughout the castle, as if laughing at their misfortune.

So he angrily swept away, walking into the dim halls of Hogwarts, dipping into pitch black with confirmation that James was gone.

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Usually as he trudged the dark corridors, he always thought about his future, his dreams and his personal interests but tonight he thought about James.

What an odd thing.

He usually got the feeling that James purposely pushed away from him, as he sadly thought that his brother had plans of pushing him away out of his life. As much as he hated to admit it, it hurt.

James wasn't very fond of him.

He usually noticed that James barely talked to their father, the way that he barely spoke to him, whilst him always had a tight bond with Harry. They were like brothers to be quite honest. But Harry was his father, not his brother. It usually bothered him, to see them all distant.

He sometimes wondered if Harry and James had a bond at all, noticing that they barely spoke yet he knew one thing.

Harry was proud of James.

He didn't show it much, but he knew that glint in Harry's eyes when he narrated the match when James was the hero. Harry wasn't just proud of his son for being Quidditch Captain, he was proud of him for his many talents.

He barely said anything about it, nor did he express it, but even though if Harry didn't express it in words, he could tell.

Though at times, he was jealous with the quidditch skills James possessed, he was jealous of his brother's confidence, the way how he could turn a simple something to something extraordinary.

Though he didn't say it, he admired his brother, envious even.

But the sad thing was, James just pushed away from him, isolating purposely. He didn't know why, but James just did.

The thunder roared wildly as he silently swept through Hogwarts dark halls, as the pouring rain savaged whatever was in its path.

He then remembered a childhood memory he held on in the back of mind, barely remembering it at times, yet still clear when he summoned it back.

**FLASHBACK**

_The night sky was streaked with the deadly sign of lightning, prancing away in its dangerously on the impotent ground, electrifying the windy atmosphere._

_Then the bellowing roar of the thunder came back, just after the strike of light. It sounded like a screech of a dying woman._

_Al wondered if the strike of light killed the woman. He wondered if it had been his Mama. _

_The thought sent shivers down his spine, as he clasped the plush owl, crying on the toy's soft fur._

_The light came back again, followed by a screech of what sounded like a baby._

_What if he was the one to die next?_

_But he didn't want to die!_

_He screamed in fear, as another bellow of thunder shook the room._

_"Al?" he heard a groggy voice call. It sounded a lot like James._

_He sobbed, as he stretched out his arms, hoping that James would take him away from the killers._

_"Why...is anything wrong?" James asked, coming nearer to where he sat._

_"I-I'm scared, J-James..." he whimpered, staring out the window, as lighting struck again, soon, someone else would be killed._

_"You're scared of the thunder and the lightning aren't you?" James chuckled, as he bent down, putting Al on his lap._

_Thunder bellowed again. He cried. Someone died again, what now sounded like a puppy getting killed._

_"Shh...that's all right, Al...don't be scared. It's just Merlin playing wizard pins..." consoled James, cuddling Al near him. (A/N: Wizard equivalent of bowling ;))_

_"Merlin? Playing wizard pins?" his eyes grew wide with interest, as the fear started to gradually go away. _

_James was his hero._

_"Yep, the greatest wizard of all time himself." replied James, with a grin._

_He grinned in amusement as he cuddled up to his brother. Soon all he remembered was the soft belly of his brother, and his comforting smell which carressed him to sleep._

_**END OF FLASBACK**_

Al smiled sadly at that one happy memory that he so long secretly cherished. They were just so close.

Soon the deathly strike of lightning lit up the skies again, which would be soon followed by what seemed are dying screams of someone in pain and anguish.

Then an awful thought came to his mind as it refused to go away.

And suddenly he began to wonder, if those dying screams was his brother's.

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A/N: See! Harry isn't that bad! Well…about the necromancy thing…and all the other evil stuff he's been doing would be explained soon enough…I've had an ending, but I'm suffering from writer's block, I'm sad to say. But nonetheless, I put my heart into this chapter and I do hope (please please please do!) that you people review! Your reviews were fantastic, they give soul for writing.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclamier: I won nothing

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"James?" Lily called as she noticed the isolation James put himself in, just staring at nothing, probably deep in thought.

He didn't answer.

"Are you all right, luv?" she asked as she approached him slowly.

"Oh. I'm…perfectly okay…I-I'm just letting time pass by…" he finally acknowledged, sadness etched all over his face.

"Why pass time there when you can pass time by with me?" she kidded, giving him a wide playful grin.

He tried to smile back, but his unhappiness proved it impossible. The woman looked at him in worry.

"James, I know you." Lily sighed, holding James's chin up. "Something is bothering you, if it's about James, I'm worried too. We can talk about it."

The man looked away.

"Please?" she begged in concern.

"I-I…it's all my fault, Lily…" James croaked, as he looked away again.

"No, James…don't say that…" said Lily in alarm, convincing him that none of it was.

"Lily, stop pretending!" James cried clasping his hair in anguish.

But the woman didn't seem abashed. Instead she looked at him in the eye.

"Why do you say that, James?" she asked, staying calm, yet she was beseeching his soul.

"If it wasn't for me, Harry wouldn't have been like this! James wouldn't have been in this mess!"

"James…"

"You very well know it is, Lily! I wasn't a good father! I never was and I never will be! James yelled in guilt and anger. "I wasn't even able to provide a good childhood for my son!"

"I…"

She was at loss for words. He was finally letting out the suffering and pain he had been bottling up for years. She knew it was there, slowly reaching out to heal him, but James refused. He was a master of self-preservation.

"If I wasn't thick enough to trust Peter, do you think we would have died that night? Do you think we would have left Harry alone to deal with all of those?!" James continued. "What kind of father does that, Lily?" he finished, tears were beginning to brim in his eyes, trying so hard to stop them, knowing that he had done enough.

Lily knelt beside him, as she raised his chin to meet his face as she stared at his eyes with sincerity before whispering: "James, I can only tell you one thing. You are the greatest father and husband a child and woman could have, and for that, I am extremely fortunate to love you."

He gave her a sad smile, before kissing her freckly nose as they shared a quiet embrace.

Yet there are simply wounds that words cannot heal and sad to say, these are those which hurt and scar the deepest.

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Harry strolled the dim halls of Hogwarts, remembering his happy years in its premises, basking in the ambiance of its warm halls, yet that simply did not define that he was in a state of joy for the truth is, he wasn't.

Lightning struck again, as expected, thunder followed, sounding a like a war cry of a brave hero, probably screaming his last in his final battle.

The lump on his throat refused to go away, as guilt and confusion gnawed away in his insides. What happened hours ago with his son bothered him. He hadn't planned the evening to end that way.

He just wanted James to tell the truth about necromancy…but then what if James hasn't committed anything at all?

He seemed sincere when he denied his allegations, he seemed hurt even.

James's brown eyes reminded him so of Ginny's own 20 years ago. It was one of the most painful things he'd ever done, and though time passed and he had his happy ending with her, it still haunted him. Those brown eyes rarely showed emotion, and when they did, it was such a heartbreaking sight.

That was the sight he saw again tonight.

James's face just wouldn't leave his mind, it was haunting him.

He could not understand what he did. He felt the urge to do so, but as far as he knows, he would never, ever do such a thing...yet he did, or so it appeared as if he did.

He remembered the times when everything just felt so easy and carefree with his son...

_FLASHBACK_

_Harry and James had been sitting in an ice cream shop in Diagon Alley after shopping for James's school supplies and Harry wondered why his son seemed so reserved and quiet._

_For 30 whole minutes they have been sitting there without a single conversation, and Harry was getting a bit woried why James was staring blankly into his pumpkin ice cream which was reducing into a puddle of sticky bright orange._

_"James? Are you alright?" he asked ruffling his son's hair._

_James paused to look at him, but bowed his head again and resumed to looking at the puddle of ice cream._

_"C'mon, James, are you worried about Hogwarts?" he questioned, smiling at his son who looked at him incredulously, much to his surprise._

_"No, why should I be?" replied James, looking at his father with intense chocolate brown eyes._

_"I...well...what's wrong then?" _

_James bowed his head again, and looked straight into Harry's eyes._

_"You won't laugh or get mad?" said James, looking hopeful._

_"Pinky promise..." Harry whispered, offering his pinky to his son who wrapped his onto his father's._

_Harry was getting quite worried with what James might've done. His heart rate was getting a tad bit faster than normal. James's escapades proved quite too much for him at times._

_"I-...I think I'm in love..." stuttered James while Harry breathed in relief ._

_"Good merlin, I thought it was something more serious!" Harry chuckled ruffling his son's mop of black hair again. _

_He thought the idea was quite silly actually. In love at eleven? Though he should be quite thankful that James did not confess anything about setting dragons free, or burning villages.._

_"You think there's something more serious than the excruciating pain of first love?" James snapped which sobered Harry up in a jiffy._

_Why didn't he think of that? It was in fact totally agreeable._

_"Oh..." replied Harry. "You've got a point..."_

_"Oh how my heart bleeds!" cried James melodramatically while Harry laughed in amusement._

_"Race you to Quality Quidditch Supplies!" chortled Harry as he bolted through the door, ignoring the customers complaints, watching his son chase him witha grin on his face._

_It was the bliss of fatherhood at its best._

_END OF FLASHBACK_

Then suddenly, for years, he wished that everything just went back to those days. He stared out the window, knowing that if anything happened to his son, it would be his fault.

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Rain poured on him, as he struggled to walk the muddy paths. The droplets stung his eyes, as his vision became blurry with weakness, he just felt dropping to a heap on the mulch.

The splinch on his arm was beginning to bleed even harder, as he felt the warm sensation of the blood flowing down. He could feel its thick constingency from the water's loose flow. He could even smell it in the air. Everytime lightning flashed, he could see scarlet swirls on the puddles, and it was not at all comforting to be aware that it was his own.

He shouldn't have apparated in the first place. It was pointless visiting the place, but it was as if it was calling his name...

Lightning struck, lighting up his way, before the thunder roared, while the trees danced and swayed dangerously with the wind. They looked as if they were laughing at him.

Then suddenly he felt as if someone was watching him from behind, as he grasped his wand tighter in alarm. If he wasn't hallucinating, he could hear footsteps...a sloshing oof water...

"What in Merlin's name are you doing outdoors in a night like this, boy?!" he heard a demanding booming voice from behind as thunder roared once more.

Fear erupted in his veins. A deep sense of dread and foreboding was evident in his stomach.

He could feel it lurch and squeeze.

His arm throbbed more than ever, as he saw lightning flash again. The pain was excruciating.

The man was slowly approaching him, wand at hand. His boots making slushy sounds as he trudged the muddy ground.

He could imagine the man grinning maliciously as he excitedly approached his weak kill.

The pain was slowly killing him, and now he was just waiting for death, waiting for Death to just snatch him away.

He was probably going to die now. He hoped that it would be quick, even painless, hoping that it wasn't too much to ask for.

He had been foolish, now he was bowing down to Death.

He was growing dizzy, and weak. He was powerless, and there was no point fighting back.

He'd end up dead anyway.

The last thing he saw was the man's features, slowly approaching him, and lightning illuminating his face in an eerie way.

_Grey eyes. _

The man looked extremely familiar, as he tried to piece them all together with his memory but soon, all went black.

It was probably over.

**A/N: Okay, this was an extremely horrible chapter, it was fast paced and it was sort of pointless but we're getting there. The Harry thing would be answered next chapter. I was busy this week with the start of debating season! THANKS FOR THOSE WHO REVIEWED BUT I DO HOPE YOU STILL WILL. I PROMISE THAT THE NEXT WOULD BE BETTER. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Dislcaimer: Knowing that we have to do this all over again, I would like to inform all of you that I do not own Harry Potter. **

**Late update. Sad. Really. Sorry though. :( **

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James opened his eyes, as he panted angrily for breath. He clasped the soft sheets that curiously wrapped around him. His chest heaved in cold sweat.

His back felt horribly sore, and his head felt as if it was cracking open in pain.

_"You don't know anything about me!" _

The painful words echoed again and again in his head. Never in his life had he felt so alone and isolated. It tore him, as he clutched his hair to ease the cracking ache.

_FLASHBACK _

_"What are you doing out of Hogwarts?! That was downright foolish, stupid even!" his grandfather bellowed. His glasses sliding off his nose._

_He took a step back. He was upset with his grandfather's reaction. He thought…he would understand. _

_"James!" Lily begged her husband, pleading for him to stop. _

_"I…let me explain…I-" _

_He struggled to swallow the lump on his throat, and his tongue was dry. Everything felt so...wrong._

_"Explain? Explain?!" James answered incredulously, anger etched in his features. "What explanation can you possibly give?" _

_"I needed to go away!" he raised his voice, clutching his fists. "He tried…-" _

_"I don't care, James." interrupted James sternly. "You need to go back to Hogwarts." _

_"I thought you would understand me…" his voice cracked, a tone of frustration and confusion._

_James looked away. Lily shuffled her eyes tensely between her husband and grandson. _

_"I thought you'd know how I feel about-" _

_"You don't know anything about me! You don't know how-" _

_"Please…" Lily pleaded, tears starting to brim on her green eyes. _

_"I see that now." replied James, looking around. "I didn't know anything about you. I was wrong wasn't I?" _

_He laughed. James and Lily stared at him, tense. _

_"Well, goodbye." he shrugged,, forcing a sardonic smile." I've got nothing to do here anyway." _

_He walked into the bitter black of dreams, ignoring Lily's calls, and if he wasn't mistaken he also heard James. But, probably, it would be like "Harry" all over again. Frustration comes for expecting too damn much. For the first time in years, he forced himself to wake up from his precious dreams, which didn't mean anything to him just then. _

END OF FLASHBACK

His main concerns delayed his notice of the soft bed where he lay, with emerald green velvet hung from the canopy. He noticed that he no longer had a splinched arm, and he wondered if he sleep walked into the Sytherin Common Room. The wall was of an Elizabethan pattern, and oddly with snakes that coiled with grace and austere beauty. It was with the most beautiful emerald green and silver.

He got out of the soft bed and stared up at the beautiful stone ceiling, with carved snakes stared at him with angry eyes.

Angry, staring eyes.

Then he remembered the man with piercing grey eyes.

The man was probably a Slytherin, judging by the lavish decoration in the dark house's house colours.

But what bothered him the most was the man's familiarity. He certainly had seen him before, somewhere, somewhere. But as far as he could remember, he didn't have relative from Slytherin. Far from it.

He remembered the features that were illuminated by lightning in an eerie way and it was quite a relief he wasn't murdered at all…held as a hostage, probably…but then, the beautiful early dawn sky grabbed his attention, making him forget of all his troubles for just a while.

The sky was still dark, and everything seemed to be in its place, with grace and unexplainable aura on everything. He closed his eyes to let the cool morning breeze brush through his face. He almost felt as if he was flying, but all was missing was the adrenalin and the wild blowing of the wind, whipping your face with its icy coldness. The excitement of danger.

He was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Ah. Perfect conditions for a flight, isn't it?" asked the man with grey eyes, standing on the balcony, holding a goblet of what seemed to be as wizard coffee.

The man entered so discretely, that his heart nearly jumped out of his throat in shock, thankful he hadn't fallen off the balcony. He was wearing emerald green velvet robes, with fine silver lining which kind of reminded him of the canopy that gracefully hung on his bed.

The man reminded him weirdly enough of the kid at the Slytherin Quidditch Team, Scorpius Malfoy, it appeared as if they were twins...

And then it clicked.

This man was Scorpius Malfoy's father, the ever intimidating Draco Malfoy to be exact.

He just stood there frozen, his brain still trying to process something sensible.

He was saved, or hostaged, but saved nonetheless by Draco Malfoy. Not to mention slept in his house, wearing some velvet sleeping robe, which were weirdly of burgundy and gold, which belonged to the MALFOYS.

Well, let's just say that Malfoys and Potters just don't mix. It's just like chocolate powder with orange soda.

Horrible.

But that wasn't the issue right now...

"I-…uh, thank you…for …you know…" he stuttered, feeling uncomfortable in the man's presence.

He started ruffling his hair in anxiousness. He had that habit. James's habit.

The man avoided his eyes and looked away in the horizon before facing him again.

"You are Potter's son, aren't you?" The man began, as his insides lurched in what the man had mentioned. "A life for a life, I have paid my debt"

"A – what?" he asked, confused.

If he was not mistaken…he said something about saving lives…but he kept his wonderings to himself.

"You remind me so much of him, boy.", added Draco, sipping the liquid from his silver goblet.

James just looked away, pretending that he had not heard.

It was quite a shock to hear it, and he didn't quite know how to react.

He dug his nails into the stone terrace, staring into the sky, where slight illuminations of orange appeared.

There are times when beautiful things evoke feelings inside us, and sometimes for the wrong reasons.

He suddenly felt a pang of anger and sadness, emotions that have been extremely hard to control.

It wasn't true, and it never was and it never will be true! Everything was a lie!

He and Harry were so different, like stars from different universes, like countries worlds apart. He felt more of a connection with James, the man who "raised" him, but then, what if he was wrong?

James did say he knew nothing about him. It was as if all these years were just a lie. He pushed the thoughts away…refusing to summon them back… Then he remembered, there were times when James reminded him of Harry. Times when he felt smiling to himself, times when he dare not bother...

But then, that night…he sort of felt another connection…something he wasn't expecting, something he would have never expected even.

There was suddenly an awkward silence.

"By the by, what exactly were you doing last night, outside of Hogwarts?"

He didn't answer. He didn't bother answering. He did not care elaborate the events.

The man drew a breath.

"Not exactly in good terms with Potter, are you?" assumed Draco rather confidently, as if he knew what James was going through.

Then suddenly, James felt as if the man did understand that he had been through the same thing, or perhaps, even worse.

"He…tried…to kill me…" he finished, caring not to elaborate further.

Short answers were always the best in times of awkward moments. They don't give too much information to be even interpreted in other ways.

He didn't know what pushed him to open up to this stranger…. to a Malfoy…to a Slytherin, but he did.

The man seemed suddenly alarmed, as he dropped his silver goblet.

"Kill you?" he asked, intrigued. "What…exactly…green sparks?"

James gave a slight nod, quite alert as well.

He seemed puzzled with the man's sudden alertness.

"I-are you sure about this?" the man interrogated, coughing.

"What is the matter, sir?" he asked, curious .

"I-it's nothing…familiar story that's all…" Draco coughed, as if he rubbed his throat.

"I-alright then, sir." James concluded, yet his naturally inquisitive nature prodded on.

He made a mental note to himself to investigate further, but a part of himself was saying: you snotty-faced idiot! No! No! NO!!

"If you'll excuse me, I need to do something quite urgent. Help yourself with breakfast." Said Draco uneasily, clicking his fingers which quickly summoned of what appeared as a well-treated house elf wearing a SPEW badge, as he exited the balcony leaving James quite dumbfounded.

00000000000000000

"'Morning, Ron." Percy greeted, as he entered the office floors. In one hand was a cup of coffee and on the other was Molly's scrumptious jam donuts.

Ron grunted in acknowledgement, as he wearlily shuffled the scattered papers on his desks, kncking down a picture of Hermione, waving and blowing kisses. Ron cursed as he picked up the broken frame.

Percy quickly whispered an incantation (obviously it's reparo) as Ron hastily thanked him.

"So, what happened to Harry?" Percy asked, taking a drink of coffee."Ginny called last night…mumbling words in hysterics…couldn't quite make out what she was saying. I was quite guilty and alarmed though. Bad for a career, really...when you don't understand people...and for family too, of course."

"Harry…James…" Ron yawned, shaking his head in dismay, shuffling the papers.

"English please?" Percy rolled his eyes, this time opening a copy of The Quibbler.

"I've told him before…Ginny probably drove him to insanity!" ranted Ron, grabbing Percy's jam donut.

"Speaking of which, is Hermione driving you mad as well?" joked Percy, grabbing his jam donut back from his brother. "So get to the point, please. Pray, what happened?"

"Harry barged into Hogwarts, and he accused James of necromancy…-" Ron started, organizing the scattered paperwork on his desk.

"Necromancy?" Percy coughed, the jam donut stuck on his throat.

"Shut up and listen."

"Alright…"

"-he said something about green sparks and killing curses and now…James…he's gone…ran away…hurt probably…oi, are you even listening?"

"Green sparks?" Percy questioned, in a certain level attentiveness.

"Uh-huh." replied Ron, this time fixing a picture of Rose and Hugo apparently slapping each other with brooms.

Percy just stared blankly, as if deep in thought.

"Hullo…Perce?" Ron waved his hand in front of the absentminded man, before Percy snapped back into conciousness.

"Goodbye Ronald." he suddenly piped up, hastily grabbing his belongings. "Tell Kingsley I had an important mission."

"What?" Ron asked, incredulously.

"Dad stays in the Burrow at this time doesn't he?" questioned Percy, cocking his head to a side.

"Uh, yes…why?"

"No, no...not important."

Ron stared at Percy.

"Just tell Harry he did no wrong…maybe a bit…but nothing major." hastily said Percy, exiting the door in a frenzy.

"What are you talking about?" Ron interrogated, but as he was too late as Percy already apparated.

3 hours earlier...

Harry stared at the ceiling, pretending to be asleep...or atleast pretending to be oblivious to Ginny's sobs.

The rain poured, as little droplets trickled down the window.

He tried to push his thoughts away from James...his son. The first little fingers that gripped his heart and tugged its strings. The brown eyes that greeted him, the mischievous glint that he had seen so many times on photographs.

Though he rarely showed affection for his son, maybe not as far as James could remember. They seemed so...distant. He did feel more of a relationship with Al, but you wouldn't have guessed that James was his son. He knew so little about him, and probably, never attempted to know him at all and, now... But the boy was strong, and even though he may not give him the affection and attention he needs, he loves his son...so much.

_thunder cackles_

This was probably a test of fatherhood, but then...he didn't even grow up with a true father.

Sure, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus and even Snape were there...but he longed for someone else.

And that brings us back to another James, the noble stag that guarded him through the horrors, the pain and the joy. His father.

He never really got to know him...except for Snape's pensieve and how devastated he was to see his father like that...but then, Sirius did say he changed. But he still felt this empty anger, he wanted to know James, face to face, not just for mere seconds. Through all the things he heard about his father, the good and the bad, he'd always end up with one word: loving. He loved his friends, his dear wife and his son...more than his life. It was the best way to end it, nothing else, that was how HE ended it. He didn't want anyone to judge James for him, he wanted to know him himself.

But sometimes, he would always be quick to judge his father as an arrogant fool, and sadly...nothing else.

Sometimes he imagined what could have been with James...man talks, Quidditch, and probably with his father, it could have been easier with girls. He could see it in his dreams. James would give him tips, then he would remind him of his first failed conquests with his mother and how quickly it would sober James up. Then, they would laugh.

Laughing, he had always wondered how James laughed...how he liked his toast...what was his favourite Quidditch Team other than the Gryffindor team, his signature quidditch move, on what subjects he excelled in (other than Transfiguration), lame pick up lines (to be the butt of his ridicule) Maurauding Tales and of course, how could he forget, how he won Lily's heart in the end.

Even on his wedding day, he imagined his parents sitting on the front row. A proud James giving him a thumbs up and teary-eyed Lily, blowing him girly kisses. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

And then, he'd always remember...

_"Yeh did as much as your father would've done, an' I can' give you no higher praise than that."_

One of his most treasured achievements in life. And he did cherish it, secretly.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**So...have you got a clue? Well, anway, this chapter hasn't been my best, obviously but I reckon it was better than the last one! Hopefully. Anyway, sorry for the late update, been really busy with debate! Busy, busy, busy.**

**THANKS FOR THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS AND NOW...**

**PLEASE REVIEW. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK SO THAT I MAY BE ABLE TO IMPROVE. SUGGESTIONS ARE WELCOME.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Dislcaimer: Knowing that we have to do this all over again, I would like to inform all of you that I do not own Harry Potter. **

**A/N: This is an Al chpater. It was supposed to be an Al/Harry/Ginny one but I'm particularly busy. Sorry!**

**00000000000000000000000000**

Al walked into the Great Hall, missing the familiar boisterous laughs of the trio he knew. Everything was...too quiet.

He heaved a great sigh.

He noticed Fred languidly stabbing his eggs with his fork. It seemed so different. Everyone seemed to notice the lack of troublemaking.

Scott had sadly left Hogwarts for Head Training hours ago, and he couldn't even look at him in the eye. He seemed so lonely, and worried. Even the stoical Head Girl noticed.

After all, Scott and Fred were the first ones to know that James was missing.

"Al?" Rose waved her hand in front of him. "Are you okay? It's weird, isn't it? No screaming, hmmm, that's funny...where's James anyway?"

Al didn't know what to answer. Even his sister didn't know yet. In fact, he wasn't even supposed to know.

"Probably...uh...sleeping in." he stammered, swallowing nervously.

Surprisingly, Rose didn't notice.

"I suppose." she smiled. "Just to let you know, Nat (he's a bloke) was looking for you ages ago."

"Oh, tell him I'll be off to Transfiguration..."

In Transfiguration...

He heard McGonagall's lectures, as he noticed that she eyed him nervously from minute to minute. He tried not to meet her eyes, as so much had happened last night.

He stared onto the half-filled page of parchment, struggling to concentrate.

The thought of his brother kept playing on his mind. Where was he? Why had he left in the first place? If it was some joke, it definitely wasn't funny.

Did James even consider how he would feel? He probably thought he wouldn't give a bloody bother. It was certain they didn't talk much, nor were they buddies.

But he did care for him, he did love him. But did James?

Perhaps, he did, but he had given Al the protection a big brother could have given. The moments weren't plentiful, but they were enough to make Al feel it.

**_FLASHBACK_**

_Al glumly walked the halls of Hogwarts, towards the changing rooms, dragging his broom across the floor with him. They just lost a bloody game because of him. His performance for the last few games wasn't exactly stellar and he knew it, in fact everyone knew it._

_He was Harry Potter the legendary seeker's son and he wasn't doing a good job at it at all. James was the mighty one in the Quidditch field and in fact, James was probably controlling himself not to burst on him for ruining his perfect season._

_Suddenly, arguing voices caught his attention. His heart sank. He knew it was about him._

_"Come on, Potter! What kind of Captain are you?" argued a voice which sounded a lot like Edmund Cummins, an arrogant 7th year. "That bloody brother of yours keeps messing up every bloody game and you don't even have the bloody heart to kick him bloody off!"_

_He felt the urge to punch Cummins, but he knew he was right anyway, so what was the point?_

_There were whispers of agreement, and Al peered in closer._

_James looked sullen, not answering and just stared onto the floor. Fred stood behind him, with Scott looking away, obviously unnerved with the tension._

_"Oh, bloody fess up, Potter. You bloody well know Ed over here is right." continued Simon Martin, an obvious buddy of Edmund Cummins, as he slung his arm on his mate's shoulder, more than happy to kick a Potter off the team. "Just kick sweet little Albus off the team."_

_Others laughed, while the rest looked appalled._

_James looked at them with murderous eyes, but continued to stare on the ground before standing up._

_He sighed, and answered in his less authoritative voice than normal._

_"I know that Al has been horrible for a couple of games…" James started, and Al felt his stomach squirm as he felt a pang of guilt and worry._

_"…but not one of you knows what he's been going through…and as a Captain, I feel for him and as a team, you-"_

_Al felt a surge of affection for blessed and proud to have James as big brother. He didn't show much care but suddenly, he felt as if it was the night when James came_

_"You mean as a brother?" interrupted Edmund, raising his eyebrows._

_James scowled, and clasped his broom tighter but looked at Fred and Scott. He was clearly asking them about what they think._

_"I-I don't know, James…" started Scott, looking down on the floor. "Al's really fantastic and we know that, but like you said, he's been going through a lot…"_

_Al looked down. Even Scott thought he should take a break for a while…_

_"I- well…Scott's probably right, Al's been going through quite a lot and I do care for him. He's my cousin and, and I…" stammered Fred, struggling to finish his sentence, but Al knew what he was going to say anyway and so did James._

_James sighed. _

_Al's heart beat faster. He didn't know at all if he would understand if ever James kicked him off. He loved Quidditch, but the team was right. He had ruined everything and trashed all the hard work. Perhaps it would have been best… _

_"No. My brother is staying." James states sternly, standing up straight-backed and proud. _

_Al couldn't believe what he was hearing. _

_He heard a murmur of commotion, and a lot of people seemed to disagree with him. So much for a 6th year Captain, yet still, James give him a chance. _

_"I believe in what he is capable of doing, he'll bounce back and I'm absolutely sure of that. I would have done the same to all of you and you know that." James finished, looking at the astonished faces of the 7th years. _

_The majority smiled at his actions, though it was quite apparent that they were not sure about their leader's decision. Did the lad whom stood before them worthy, or would the choice of giving the badge to Cummins seem much more prudent? After all, Cummins was an excellent beater, and he was a 7th year… _

_"I knew it." started Edward Cummins sardonically, gaining looks from the others. "You aren't worthy of being Captain. You're just an amateur cheat. Is this because you were descended from the mighty Quidditch Potters? If you ask me, your grandfather was rubbish, and your father wasn't any good either, and you, you aren't exactly much improvement either. Along with that bloody brother of yours. Did your parents pay the school or something? Or was it because your father is famous?" _

_Al felt the impulsivity to actually bash him up, and his temper was running fast. _

_Although James seemed to take in and believe a part of what Cummins had just said. Yet he swallowed, and kept his head higher. _

_"Don't you dare include my family in this, Cummins." James scowled. _

_"And if you think, you're so good, Cummins, how come you're not wearing his batch?" pointed out a young Asian first year, looking at Cummins with her innocent baby face, yet the tone of her voice was murderous. _

_"You know what, Cummins?" suddenly chimed Fred, smirking. "Lin here's right."_

_"I second the motion." said Scott, grinning._

_The other grinned, but still, they weren't sure. _

_"And still, Cummins." addressed James, holding his head higher. "I am your Captain and my brother is staying."_

_Al couldn't believe it._

_Edward Cummins and Simon Martin glared as they walked out of the room._

_He had the pleasure to meet them at the door way, before smiling and waving._

_James had risked proving himself as worthy of the badge, just to give him his own chance of proving his abilities. James stood up as a mighty leader, like a Spartan general marching valiantly into war. He had done it as a Potter, as a just and charismatic Captain and probably…as a loving brother. _

_END OF FLASHBACK_

"Mr. Potter? Are you all right?"

He was interrupted by the familiar voice of Minerva McGonagall. She was asking although she really knew what was bothering him.

He was in the middle of Transfiguration class.

Others giggled, he blushed.

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"All right then Mr. Potter, I would like to talk to you after class."

"Yes, Professor." Al stuttered, as he hesitantly resumed to his work, but his mind and heart was far away.

It wasn't confined in the walls of Hogwarts, but somewhere where his brother may be, whether he roams the forests of Scotland or perhaps, Godric's Hollow, which Al knew as James's favorite childhood playground. He knew James had a soft spot for two particular names imprinted on a headstone.

In fact, with the help of two dear memories, he was able to come up with an assumption: James did love his brother.

With all the care and protection he gave Al, how could he not?

Maybe, just maybe.

And perhaps…he would come after James, and… the journey begins tonight.

Al smiled and scribbled.

00000000000000000000000000000000

**A/N: Tada! Hope that was okay...quite short, but I ardently hope that it's pretty good. We'll be exploring more of Draco's and Percy's respective views next chapter. If I don't get too lazy, maybe even Harry and Ginny...maybe James and Lily too. I would be exploring a minor character too, but she's basically James's love interest if that's okay with you. Oops, I shouln't have said that.**

**Anyway, REVIEW PLEASE! I love your reviews, they truly, ardently give soul.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: No, Harry Potter is not mine. Why would I be writing fanfiction again?**

**A/N: Here you go, chapter 10! I have good news!**

**This is where we find out why Draco and Percy suddenly walked off...ah.**

**Been quite busy! **

**REWRITTEN. AGAIN. Minor changes though, explanation is written in the end.**

* * *

Draco dropped the quill he was holding, it was useless trying to concentrate now. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. What the Potter boy had told him had stirred up memories that he had long locked at the back of his head. If Draco hated one thing it was nostalgia for he never did well in handling it... 

_FLASHBACK_

_"You little pathetic weakling…" Lucius taunted, hexing him to the cold stone floor. "How dare you question me? How dare you question the Dark Lord?!"_

_He lay sprawled on the floor, panting hard. The spot where his father had hexed and shoved him throbbed in pain._

_"No, Lucius! Please!" Narcissa screeched, her long blonde hair in a tussle, her face streamed with hot tears. In fact, even his were._

_"I raised you as a good father and what do you give me in return, boy?!" Lucius bellowed, his face distorting with anger. The fire in the furnace cracked and cackled, accompanied by Narcissa's pleading sobs._

_He just panted on the floor, his lip bleeding, refusing to look at his father._

_What had happened to him?_

_For years he had been ready, so ready. But then at the taste of it, suddenly everything seemed to much for him. The reality of it was overwhelming, like a cold blanket creeping at his feet._

_For years he had considered killing all those unworthy as an appealing hobby but as he got to it, he felt as if...he couldn't do it. In fact, he might have been weak, and he wanted his heart to like murder, to eliminate the mudbloods he had hated for so long. He wanted his heart to savor the death of his enemies, he wanted to find the satisfaction the other Death Eaters see in doing this. _

_The sight of the torture he had witnessed hours ago made his blood curdle in fear. It seemed so inhuman. He had hated Potter and his cronies but when he saw what was happening, he was suprised not to feel any trace of happiness at all, no pleasure. Instead, he felt fear, instense fear, and in fact, even remorse and pity._

_"I have served the Dark Lord with utmost loyalty for the welfare of this family!" bellowed Lucius, his wand still pointing at him._

_At the mention of his family he suddenly felt anger boil inside him. _

_Welfare?!, he thought angrily, what welfare?!_

_He didn't know what possessed him, but still, he spoke. A courage had suddenly ignited inside him._

_"Welfare?!" he answered, blood sputtering everywhere."All this obsession of yours has done anything but promote our family's welfare, Father!"_

_Lucius seemed abashed, it was evident that he was intensely angry. Narcissa knew what was going to happen yet she couldn't stop it, she sat there whimpering._

_"How dare you?!" Lucius hissed. "How dare you say that?!"_

_He knew he could've stopped, but then, he couldn't. Emotions and feelings he had bottled up for so long just started pouring out of his mouth, words coming out like a fountain._

_"While you were rotting in Azkaban for this noble act of yours, Merlin knows what Mother and I had been through!" he seethed, and suddenly the cold stone floor didn't seem so frosty anymore. "I risked everything just to save what you left of us!"_

_His father had been breathing heavily, struggling to contain his anger._

_"You useless-"_

_"Exactly!" he interuppted, clenching his fists. "That's what I've been to you, that's how you always saw me! In fact, that's perhaps you've been seeing our family. A hindrance for you to suck up-"_

_His chest heaved in pain as another hit him as he was thrown up to just crash again._

_"Lucius, no!"_

_He felt his world spinning, as his father's wand pointed at him, and for the first time in his life, he felt as if he was looking at Death...as green sparks emiited from its dangerous tip..._

_END OF FLASHBACK_

He shut his eyes, banging his fists onto the holly desk. He started massaging his temples, everything had been explained and forgiven long before but the horror of it, years back seemed to be in the wind again as it softly chanted words, a familiar verse.

* * *

The man contently squinted over the smoky horizon, inhaling the soothing scent of the sea. He let himself sit on the dock, closing his eyes in satisfaction, letting the cool breeze charm his cold demeanor. He eagerly waited for the fish to pull, and yes, he was kind of attracted to the muggle hobby since they went fishing. He was able to catch 5 and Lily was thoroughly impressed. (James caught a massive one, and Lily was ecstatic, but who needs to know that bit anyway. Besides it was his first time!) Suddenly, he heard a familiar pattern of footsteps and his black eyes shifted. 

Before the man could even call out his name, he acknowledged him first, rather curtly even.

"What is it that you want, Potter?"

"I-uh, nice to see you again, Sev…" James stammered, carelessly using a nickname, running a hand through his black hair.

Severus Snape sighed. Only Lily was allowed to use that nickname but he'll tolerate it, or at least try to. After all, Potter was her husband and of course, and she wouldn't be very happy if he pushed James off the dock. Even though he would be more than euphoric to do so.

He rolled his eyes. He'd been civil and now, he'll once again try to…in fact, surprisingly, the Marauders have started to grow on him, particularly a bespectacled man by the names of 'Idiot', ehm, he meant 'James'.

"Potter, I would greatly appreciate it if you would be a little more specific about what you want."

James sighed. Severus could feel awkwardness and discomfort, and shook his head slightly. He hated 'civilised' tension, most especially with the infamous James Potter.

This was going to be rather personal, and he ardently hoping that it wasn't about marital problems. How can it be marital problems, when he just caught Lily and James gallivanting each other 3 days ago like they were 21. They looked 21 but they certainly weren't. He didn't do well with family matters, really…

"I was, I was, well…hoping that you could, help me with you know, fatherhood." James uncomfortably stammered, running a hand through his hair again.

Snape was mortified.

If he had been eating something he would have choked to death and fallen over, not that he could die again…

Just his luck.

Fatherhood? What did he know about fatherhood? He never even had a first kiss, for Merlin's sake!

"You are aware that I have not any children, let alone a wife?" said Snape through gritted teeth, not facing James.

The conversation seemed a lot more comfortable without Sirius's occasional comments of "Yes, because you spent your whole life making a shrine for his wife." James had made an effort to be friendly with Snape but Sirius wasn't very enthusiastic.

"Yes, yes, um, i-it's not quite that really…" James stuttered, smiling nervously.

"Then what is it?"

"It's about Harry…"

Oh Merlin. Not again.

Severus Snape sighed. If he could sigh for hours he could, but anyway, moving on.

"What is it about…the boy?"

Snape softened up a bit for the lad, really. After all, his second son was named Albus Severus, even though he knew it wasn't the best name you could give a child. But seriously, James Sirius isn't a name you would go crazy for anyway. In fact, in his opinion Albus Severus was way off than James Sirius, really.

He didn't need to face James to know that he was grinning.

"I believe you know about the…um…occurrence…"

"Yes, yes, the boy having trouble with fatherhood himself." said Snape, rather mockingly.

Well, naturally, the boy was named James for a reason.

James felt kind of offended, though he just looked away, controlling his anger. It seemed much more prudent to shut up and ignore it rather than strangle Severus James with his fishing rod.

"I-yes, er, about that…" James started, sitting beside Snape, keeping his distance of course.

Snape couldn't believe what he was doing, and he was sure, it was going to be a long day. But he'd make sure that if James Potter started sobbing he'd push him off the wharf.

* * *

Percy quickly stepped out of the fireplace, his glasses askew, and his hair slightly disheveled. He quickly fixed his glasses, firmly on his noise, flattened his hair and went about on clothes before venturing out for Mr. Weasley. 

The burrow seemed empty, yet he knew his parents were somewhere about. Arthur was probably in his little workshop, filled with muggle paraphernalia while Molly tended to the chickens, humming a Celestina Warbeck tune.

The bloody woman just won't die. (A/N: Celestina Warbeck, not Molly!)

On a little wooden table sat the waving picture of his late brother, Fred. He sadly smiled, approaching the frame. After all, he died in his arms.

"A lot's been going on, mate." He sighed, "Wish you were here to lighten things up a bit with George."

The picture just stared at him with unfaltering eyes, smiling contentedly.

He looked away.

Since he learned what had really happened to Harry and James, it had stirred memories and ghastly fears. The incident had been long forgiven and forgotten yet he could still vividly remember the sickening churning of his stomach caused by the intense feeling of fear, betrayal, and worthlessness.

He remembered staring at the tip of his father's wand as green light started to illuminate its tip. It was like staring at Death face to face.

That was a time when suddenly, he felt unloved, suddenly alone in a cold world. It was a time when he finally learned to hate.

"Percy?" his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his father's voice.

He gave a small smile.

Arthur still, miraculously, had a thin layer of red and white hair, his glasses at the tip of his nose. He was holding what seemed to be a mobile, and he was wearing airplane boxer shorts.

"Good Morning, Dad." greeted Percy, rather seriously, though he did smile, as he was genuinely glad to see his father, but there were more important affairs to be dealt with.

"Blimey o' Reilly! What brings the big cheese in here? ", Arthur smiled, slapping Percy rather hardly on the back.

Percy smiled, although technically it was more of a grimace.

"Uh, I believe you have heard about Harry and James…" Percy nervously started, "and may I ask you if you have learned what proximately occurred?"

"I-no, why, is anything quite peculiar?"

Percy started to look around the burrow, his eyes shifting from one thing to another.

"I-I…" Percy struggled to start. It was very awkward to start such a touchy subject again. Like it has been said before, all was forgiven and forgotten.

It was quite hard for him really, to open up again a stitched wound, meaning reminding him of his past faults, mistakes and overview, along with his father's. It was like opening again endless memories of long sleepless guilt-ridden nights and watching turmoil on cold frosty Ministry windows. It was a time of remorseful wondering if that if your family was killed or torn apart, it would his fault.

"Yes, Percy?" Arthur urged on, getting anxious.

His heart started to beat wildly. What had exactly happened?

"Dad, I am entirely sure that you would remember, but most likely you have…" Percy started, his voice faltering into a small whisper. "Approximately, 28 years ago, in this very house, something happened between you and me…"

Percy need not to finish the sentence, for Arthur had already known what he was about to say.

He never had tried to kill his son, and never will he. But why was Percy opening it up again? Hadn't they solved this before? It seemed very very odd but it was indeed true. It had said that even such a thing could carry on beyond the grave.

Arthur nodded sullenly.

He seems crestfallen, though Percy, he probably thinks it's about us.

Percy's head throbbed and he swallowed the lump on his throat.

"Judging by the events Ron had recounted to me, which I believe was derived from Harry's much accurate version…" he stammered once again, wiping his brow. "Dad, what happened between us before, has happened again."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock.

_**(For those who do not remember:**_

_James, do...have you been doing anything wrong? Dark arts or something?" Harry looked at his son's eyes, anger reflected on his features._

_"I-I…Why would you suspect me of...Dark Arts... let alone, why would I do anything like that?" James replied, confused, and angry but most of all, hurt. His father's words stung like knives cutting through his flesh, while salt was briskly rubbed on to them, making them bleed and sting even harder._

_He knew it. It wasn't because his father wanted to see him but to assume that he was doing something illegal. He wouldn't do anything with the Dark Arts yet here was his own father, suspecting him of it. Harry didn't trust him. That was all there is to it._

_Suddenly the hurt turned to anger. He was angry. Angry that here was his father suspecting him of crime when he didn't know him one tad bloody bit! His father was here, accusing him, when he knew nothing about his life! About his very being! About how his son even came to be!_

_How could he even dare to say things about him when he didn't even attempt to get to know his own son!_

_"James, look at me..." Harry raised his voice, anger more evident this time. "Have you been doing anything concerned...with the Dark Arts?"_

_James laughed but there was no mirth in it. Harry didn't trust him. It was obvious. Why would he suspect him of Dark Arts in the first place? Fury and pain throbbed in his veins like a strong river, casting away all the sense and reason within him. That's what anger did and that's why it's a sin._

_"So what if I have, Dad?" he replied, a sardonic expression on his face. "Would you care anyway?"_

_"James Sirius Potter, you listen to me!" Harry bellowed, getting his wand out of his pocket._

_"What are you going to do? Curse me?" James answered. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm used to all the pain. Go on...do it… get rid of your good for nothing son..."_

_James dropped to the floor, facing his father; hatred ran wild in the room, tension was heavy._

_Harry slowly raised his wand, gulping angrily, as James stared at the tip of it, unsure of what fury would it unleash. Would it be death?_

_To both of there surprise, Harry's wand started to emit angry green sparks from its very tip, waiting to pounce on its next victim. The green light temporarily filled the room, feeding on the anger and hatred present in the atmosphere, poisoning the goodness within._

_That light meant one thing and it wasn't something that James expected. They said that the best of things come unexpected... but so do the worst._

_James felt hot tears at the back of his eyes, as he stared at the unfathomable scene that unfolded before him. It never crossed his mind that he would stare at a tip of a wand like the way he was doing now, staring at Death, especially that the wand would be his father's._

_"Expelliarmus!" screamed a woman's voice, as Minerva McGonagall rushed to his side, throwing Harry a look of utmost disbelief and incredulity. "Harry, how…how… could…what would…Albus…"_

_Harry himself looked stunned, dazed and frightened, as he stepped backwards in astonished silence. He was breathing heavily and the rain started to pour and thunder shook the room with its deathly roar._

_Harry threw James a confused, frightened or even an apologetic gaze with his emerald eyes that carried so much emotion it was hard to decipher. But James was too hurt, too shocked to even notice it. And then Harry vanished, leaving James and Professor McGonagall in the room, poison still in the air._

_James shakily stood and ran off quickly, not caring about anything in the world. What he say back there was enough proof, evident enough of what he so long longed to be answered. He need not words. He was leaving, and that was the only cure to the wound that had been deeply inflicted. Damage had been done_

"Indeed, that's what happened between James and Harry."

_Vomica per cruor, vena quod bone. Tantum diligo vel calamitas , vel veil ultra vadum effrego thy vomica per cruor , vena quod bone. (Curse by blood, vein and bone. Thy curse be broken be by love, disaster or the veil beyond, curse by blood, vein and bone.) _

Heavy silence enveloped the room as once again the two heard the eerie humming of the wind, singing a familiar verse.

_Mortuus Vinculum. (Dead Bond) _

**READ IF YOU ARE CONFUSED:**

**What happened to James and Harry (ie chapter 5) happened before to Arthur and Percy, as well as to Draco and Lucius. What do the 3 pairs have in common? They're having/have had struggles in their father-son relationship and Mortuus Vinculum is a curse established in cases such as this. Percy's and Draco's were broken during the battle at Hogwarts. Many had died, and this war is considered as the 'disaster'. **_(Curse by blood, vein and bone. Thy curse be broken be by love, **disaster** or the veil beyond, curse by blood, vein and bone.) This shall be elaborated further in the next chapter._

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**A/N: TADA!! Mortuus Vinculum is Latin for 'Dead Bond'. People have been telling met that it makes no sense but it all actually will, until the next chapter. Although one thing is certain, HARRY DIDN'T TRY TO KILL JAMES! AT ALL! Everyone happy? I am:)) Yes, now once again, REVIEW!!**

**It was my birthday a week ago:)) Come on...won't take long... I know it was not very good and I noticed that people have lost interest in the story. But I gave my heart and soul to this and I hope you enjoyed it.**

**I'm not sure who's going to appear next chapter, though everything is planned. I can assure you though that Al and James are going to be there.**

**REVIEW.**


	11. Chapter 11

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Al happily trudged the halls, a small smile on his face, humming a favourite tune. He strutted the corridor while heads turned to look at the 'happier' Albus Potter. Apparently, some people even think that someone had spiked his pumpkin juice this morning. 

He had the perfect plan.

McGonagall had talked to him afterwards, and she was quite surprised that he responded quite calmly. He had told her that his father had wanted him to come home for awhile to be there for Ginny. McGonagall, knowing how much Harry had cared for his wife seemed to believe it. (or was she simply playing on with Al?)

He was going to owl his parents that he needed to 'go way' for awhile and had volunteered for the "Scottish Bow-Leg Conservation Efforts". He had even told them to keep him posted about information reagarding James while he's away volunteering his time for the welfare of the disappearing Scottish dragons, though actually, unbeknownst to them, he was looking for James instead.

"You seem to be in the happier side today..." interuppted Nathaniel Thomas, looking peculiarly at Al. "You're brother doesn't seem to be pulling pranks today, isn't he?"

Observation no. 89, 10:00 am. Was James really that prolific? Everybody seesm to be noticing the lack of chaos.

"Ah."

"Is that why you're happy?" Nat asked, raising an eybrow. "Him being...let's put it this way, being out of your way?"

Excuse me? Absolutely not! He would rather have James causing havoc rather than getting eaten by beasts somewhere, really! He would rather have him smiling mischievously at some prank than crying for mercy at a giant's cave!

"Of course not!" he answered incredulously, slightly clenching his fists. "In my way?"

"Okay, okay!" said Nat, making a gesture for him to calm down. "No need to break your heart about it!"

Al rolled his eyes, and shook his head in annoyance. Does he seem THAT uncaring to James? What was wrong with the world?!

"Anyway, would you please take care of Narcissus for awhile..." he requested, referring to his snowy owl. "I have to come home for awhile, you know, family business. My grandparents will be coming home from Czechoslovakia."

"Grandparents?" Nat questioned, looking weirdly at him. "That's funny. My Nan just met up with yours yesterday and she even said that she hadn't left England for the past few months and would fancy quite a trip. Which is why they're planning one, really."

Oh bugger.

His brain wasn't functioning to its full potential because of the dead lack of sleep. This interrogation was making him quite drowsy now...

"Uh, my grandparents from the paternal side?"

Bananas. That was basically dumb, and nothing else.

He should consider wagging for awhile, he needs to sleep.

"Uh, Al aren't they dead?"

Oh really? They are? He didn't notice!

He was starting to panic and the bad thing was, Nathaniel was born to sniff out secrets, but not to keep them.

But what was he supposed to say?? Er, uncallingly fall on the floor...um, what about memeory charms?

BINGO!

"I was kidding, Nat. Just giving you the old scare!" Al saved, giving Nat a 'I-wasn't-living-under-a-rock-for-the-past-ten-years-if -you-aren't-aware-of-that look'. "I was talking about Auntie Fleur's parents. Mum wants us to call them as our grandparents. French tradition, really."

He was hoping that his voice wasn't quivering.

"I see..." replied Nat, half-convinced.

"No, really." he defended, trying to remember what Victoire usually says when her grandparents were visiting. "Grand-mère et grand-père bienvenus! Comment allez-vous?"

Nat laughed at his French and Al was glad he seemed quite convinced now.

He couldn't help but give a gein.

"I need to pay a visit to the library..." he notified, but what he was really going to do was to prepare for departure.

"All right then, mate." Nat smiled giving him a slap on the back, "Catch you later!"

Al beamed as he recalled his quick save. There was more of a suave troublemaker in him after all. And a simplified definition: a Marauder.

* * *

James sat on the stone balcony, watching the sun rise in perfect aura. He had feasted on a perfect breakfast. The chilly yet lovely morning breeze kissed his weary face, contrasting to the unfriendly storm that pushed him off his feet hours ago. A lot of things, if neither all nor most, were well. 

Surprisingly, his stay at Malfoy Manor had been quite welcoming really, along with being blessed with pleasant company.

"So...Slinky?" he addressed the house elf that sat beside him. It gave him a toothy grin."May I ask you a quite, um...uh-what's the word...ah, yes, personal question?" he paused for a moment. "Hopefully, it's not very invasive."

He swallowed hopefully. He suddenly found himself asking about others' fathers to stitch up the wound caused by his own. Why exactly? The mind always worked in such a complex way there is not a suitable answer to properly explain its marvels.

"Anything, Sir! Anything!" the house elf squeaked happily, tapping its toes on stone.

James couldn't help but give a grin.

But then, he had to face the awkward state of asking.

"Um...are you quite...close, I meant, in good, gah, forget it! What I meant to say, is that if, are you kind of...close with your father?" he stammered, regretting opening such an uncomfortable subject.

He could've just shut his mouth, and let all the anger, frustration, and yearning smother his insides until it just became a slab of cholesterol enough to give a heart attack to end his life. Whoopee.

The house elf, much to his relief, did not seem abashed in anyway.

Now, a fresh stab of longing pierced through him again. Words could not explain the pain he felt, no simple words can express wounds that are far too deep for explanations to fathom. Then again, marvels of the mind cannot be answered in plain answers.

Pain and hurt were unexplainable phenomenon, and so is love.

After all, the mind and the human emotion are too complex for one person to fathom alone.

"Slinky never met his father, sir!" his thoughts were interrupted by the elf's enthusiastic answer. "Yet Slinky presumes he was a good fellow!"

"Oh..." he whispered, as he felt a sudden affection for the houself. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Slinky gave him a grin.

"Slinky needs to get back to work now, Sir!" the elf squeaked happily. "Thanks for the pleasant company, sir!"

James gave him a smile.

"Thanks for it too, Slinky."

He had to give him something, a small token of his appreciation. He felt as if Scott and Fred were smashed up and shoved in to fit the little body as he had greatly enjoyed his companionship. He dug deep into his pockets, getting out an iron button, with the Gryffindor crest engraved on it. It had been dear to him before, but as he knew the other part may have long forgotten it, he didn't need it anymore.

"Oh and Slinky?" he called, throwing the button for the house elf to catch. "Keep it, as a token."

The house elf smiled at him, before coming closer as if to whisper something.

"Master James cares for you, sir." the house elf whispered touching the left part of his chest. "Along with the pretty Mistress!"

James was too confused and dumbfounded to say anything. Was the house elf playing with him?

"Wait, what?"

The house elf just smiled at him knowingly as if he knew something that James didn't.

He probably just ate too much...or the air last night just jumbled his brain up to mulch.

He looked back at the horizon and sighed. His ebony hair all tumbled up in a windy mess. He cocked his head to the side. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

It was nearly midnight, and he was ready to leave. He had promised McGonagall a last patrol before he left for 'home'. He still wasn't sure if McGonagall had fallen for his plan, or if she's really playing on with it. 

He was going by broom, as he was thankful that the conditions for the night were way better than the night before. Every inch of the sky was specked with starry wonders, illuminating the heavens with their wondrous radiance. The lake shimmered beneath them.

Al smiled appreciatively, as a slight breeze touched his skin.

He noticed a tiny but brilliant star that blazed in the sky.

He gave a small chuckle. A part of him knew that he'd see one of those again, for some reason.

He hopped on to his broom, skidded the starry skies, searching for a lost brother.

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Hmmm, I'm not sure what to think of this chapter. It didn't have the explanation yet since I didn't want it to be vague like the last chapter. I would really like to get my act back up, and I need inspiration! So please review! 

A simple banner, nothing elaborate, was made for the story featuring Tom Sturridge. His ebony hair is just utterly 'potter-ish', I think. Go check it out! The link is on my homepage! An aid to help visualize James. Haha.

REVIEW!!!


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